


and so you became the moon.

by ninata



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, T for cursing/descriptions of violent stuff, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: and so i became a star. (FULL GAME SPOILERS. REAL SUMMARY/INFO IN FIC NOTES.)





	and so you became the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> It's customary for the winners of each Danganronpa to attend every funeral for the deceased participants. Shuuichi finds one harder than the rest.  
> (warnings for: suicide, flirting with someone by telling them how you'll graphically murder them, yanhara)

The funeral for Kokichi Ouma was pathetically small.

Out of all the funerals Shuuichi had attended for the dead participants, this was by far the saddest to see. Ouma's parents refused to pay for a ceremony, so the studio decided to hold one just for appearance's sake. It was in a tiny Tokyo funeral home; the emptiness of the room hit Shuuichi particularly hard.

The memory recovery process had been going smoothly  _ (after 50 seasons, you'd expect as much) _ and he wasn't sure what to think. He'd remembered many strange things, and a lot of them ended up revolving around the deceased in question. He probably never would have guessed that it was his influence that made Ouma audition for this season's Danganronpa, nor the plans the two had made…

Shuuichi, Harukawa and Yumeno sat in wait as a monk chanted. There was a school photo of Ouma in his gakuran, smiling like he couldn't possibly mean it; the frame was simple and black. The incense smelled cheap. They couldn't, understandably so, have an open casket, so a simple urn sat where a coffin should've been. It was smaller than the other ones Shuuichi had seen. He wondered how arduous it must have been, scooping enough of him together to cremate…

"Nnnyou know," Yumeno whispered suddenly, making Shuuichi jump, "You don't hafta do the speech. Me 'r Harukawa can take it over." The real Yumeno spoke less like someone from medieval times and more like someone from the boonies. Harukawa, who turned out not to be an assassin at all, nodded. "If s'too much for you to handle, with your memories 'n all…"

"No, it's fine." Shuuichi smiled at the two of them.

Something about knowing they had signed up for this, knowing it was all written in made losing their 'friends' easier. Was that cruel? He didn't feel like it was. But still, Shuuichi felt...wrong, at this one. He knew why, but he didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to remember…

"Saihara-kun, just...take it easy." Harukawa's tone was soft. She really was nothing like her character. He smiled, waving his hand dismissively. He'd be fine. They'd split the speeches pretty evenly, and it was only fair he handle Ouma's speech…

...After all, they were so close. It was the right thing to do.

"We're going live soon," A cameraman said, dressed in an inappropriately brightly colored polo. "You ready, kid?"

Shuuichi wiped the remainders of ash off his fingers, swallowing heavily. "Yes. I think so."

"You think? C'mon, Saihara. You're the star today. Try to sound a little more reliable."

"Aha...right, right. Sorry about that."

Scooting around. The picture of Ouma's tired gaze met the camera's lens.

Shuuichi waited until the cameraman's fingers counted down from three to zero. He had memorized the speech pretty easily.

"Today, we're here to mourn the loss of Kokichi Ouma." Shuuichi began.

_ "M-My name is...Kokichi Ouma." He had said, shuffling nervously as he fiddled with his bag's strap. "It's nice to formally meet you…" _

_ As middle school ended and over a year of talking online, Shuuichi had finally met Unba in person. Unba was a user he met in a forum for people interested in committing and being murdered. Shuuichi, someone fascinated by death since a young age, had joined on a whim. His main fandom was Danganronpa, and had been for the past six years. The further he got into it, the more he wanted to join the ranks of the culprits. Create a dazzling murder… _

_ And Unba was someone who wanted to die. Coming from a horrific family background, ostracized by his classmates, Unba was sick of trying to fit in and pretend he wasn't rotting from the inside out. They hit it off immediately. Line conversations that lasted until three in the morning, long winded fantasies he'd type out with nervous fingers, 'I want to cut you open and pull all your organs out. I want to feel them pulsate until your life leaves you. I want to hold your head underwater until the bubbles stop coming up. I want to drive stakes through your eyes and let your brain drain out through your nose.' They were lengthy. They were graphic. But Unba never got disgusted. Never told him he was a freak. Never lost interest and faded out of his life. _

_ "I'm Shuuichi Saihara." He had said, feeling his stomach flutter. Ouma had short, flippy hair. When they first met, he hadn't started dyeing it. He was shorter, smaller, and genuinely seemed like a scared rabbit. It was charming. _

_ They both bowed their heads. Shuuichi quickly learned that their conversations remained just as enthusiastic as they did online, and that he was just as pleasant to be around as he'd thought. _

Shuuichi licks his lips.

"Ouma-kun played a very interesting role in this past season's Danganronpa. He was a fantastic villain, despite not actually being our mastermind."

_ "Y-You're...sure I can spend the night?" _

_ Shuuichi lived in an apartment alone outside of Tokyo. He helped at his uncle's law firm, and had been happy to invite Ouma over after they started at their different high schools. They were becoming very close. _

_ When Ouma showed up with nasty bruises on his face, Shuuichi's heart hardened, stomach clenched. _

_ "As long as you won't get in trouble. I...I don't have an extra futon, but the couch is small enough to stay in the living room with one set out. I have some blankets you can use." _

_ "I just...d-don't want to trouble Saihara-kun, and…" _

_ "It's not a trouble." Shuuichi spoke gently. Ouma winced anyway. "You're always welcome here." _

_ "...You don't mean that, d-do you?" _

_ "Of course I do." _

_ "Saihara-kun…" _

_ "Ah– wait, hold on." _

_ Shuuichi got up from the table, rummaging in a kitchen drawer. He produced a key, taking Ouma's hands and folding it into them as they shook. _

_ "Here. It's my spare. You can come in whenever you want." _

_ Ouma cried for a while after that, but he did keep his end of the bargain. After that night, Shuuichi would come home to Ouma sitting at his table, kneading his hands in his lap. As weeks turned to months, he'd moved to the couch. And after a while, even though he remained achingly polite, Shuuichi thought Ouma may have found his little apartment to be something like a home. _

"Our season couldn't have been successful without his character, and for that, we're grateful to him. Even his death created a fantastic mystery, and it's thanks to him we were able to...to…"

_ Ouma's lips were soft. But Shuuichi would have been surprised if they weren't. Everything about Ouma was soft, from the way he spoke to his smile, to his hands, to his hair. Ouma's lips were soft, pressed against his, just the slightest tremble in his frame. _

_ They kissed for the first time in their second year of high school. It was only natural for them to be curious, and Shuuichi realized he didn't want to kiss anyone else. They'd both started puberty...Ouma had Shuuichi beat in terms of a maturing voice, but he still fit so perfectly in his arms. Their hormones drove them to do strange things– or, so they may defend it with. _

_ Ouma broke away, hiding his face. "O-Oh gosh, I'm...I-I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have j-just…" _

_ "No, I– I-I liked it, I–" _

_ Ouma lifted his face up, looking astounded, but it soon melted further into embarrassment. He hid it behind his hands again. _

_ His heartbeat hammered from inside his skin. Even now, he could remember how painful it was, how conscious he was of his own mortality at that moment. It was one of the few times he could remember feeling so alive. Shuuichi took a deep breath, carefully moving those slender hands away, and caught Ouma's lips with his own. _

_ It was then he had a strange thought; a thought he didn't think he would ever entertain. _

_ It may not be so bad to be alive if Ouma was with him. _

_ After the first time they kissed, on the mornings he woke up to Ouma already in his apartment, Ouma would be under the covers of his futon, head tucked under Shuuichi's chin. The loneliness Shuuichi had grown used to began to abate. _

_ Maybe...this is what having a home felt like. Maybe Ouma wasn't the only one learning. _

"T-To have such...an interesting case layout, this season. A-And...to...t-to…"

Shuuichi chokes. Like an anchor has been tied to his heart, it drags. It's deep in his stomach, weighing heavy. He isn't sure when he started crying, but he can't see anymore. No camera, not the two other people who came to mourn.

The Ouma he knew before the game was so gentle. So unsure. He wasn't like his character, and yet...even then, Shuuichi couldn't help but feel he fell in love with that Ouma, too. No matter what, it was the same person– the same purple hair, the same strange laughter, the same bright eyes and soft hands. Maybe this Ouma was more confident. Maybe he lied. But the one he had known before was still in there, and he could tell, he could see him still, and…Underneath all those lies, someone familiar laid. 

_ "Ouma-kun, do you want to audition for Danganronpa with me?" _

_ Ouma frowned up at him, resting his forehead back against his shoulder. "You know I don't like violent stuff…" _

_ "Well, I mean...I think this is how we could finally die together." _

_ Ouma tilted his head back up. _

_ "If we audition, and we get in...I'm sure I'll be able to kill you! A-And I'll make sure to make it beautiful. Nobody across this nation will ever forget it...and...and then I'll die, right after you. And we'll be together for the rest of eternity, and nothing could ever hurt us ever again." _

_ Ouma smiled. _

_ "...Saihara-kun, do you mean it?" _

_ "What?" _

_ "Y-You...want to be with me forever?" _

_ "O-Of course I do! I do...and this way, we can finally…" _

_ Ouma's hands were careful, cold palms sliding into place against his cheeks, urging softly for him to lean down. Their lips met. _

_ "...If you'll audition, I will too. I-I don't want to be left alone, s-so...um. If you promise you'll kill me, then…" _

_ "I do! I do promise. I'll kill you, and I'll follow you right after. We'll make a case so fantastic, i-it'll be remembered by Danganronpa fans forever! And...and...no one will ever hurt you, not ever again." _

_ Not ever again. _

He had failed Ouma.

He hadn't remembered. His personality grew too different. In the end...he let Ouma die without him, and he didn't even have the nerve to try and chase after him. He was alone, now. He was alone, and…

Ouma was  _ gone. _

He'd go back to living alone. He didn't have to worry about a job for a while...he may even get a new apartment. But that isn't what he'd miss.

Their Line conversations...their pinky promises. Their matching keychains, the nights they spent together, how Ouma understood everything about him, how he never yelled at him or ignored him, or, or looked at him with disdain, or distaste…

He was alone again.

He was alone, and would always be alone.

Ouma wasn't the only one who had wanted to die. Shuuichi was equally as desperate. He'd always been friendless, a mediocre person whose smiles were creepy and interests weird. His parents were eager to shove him away, make him live by himself and work with an uncle who didn't have a shred of tenderness in him. He didn't belong with his family, at work, at school. All he had was his online life. All he had was his hobbies. He was growing exhausted, struggling to wake up to an empty apartment and go to a school where no one spoke to him, to a job where he was yelled at and ignored and then back home to cook himself his own meals. Death was all he had, death always followed him. He even took up amateur taxidermy…

Only Ouma understood. Only Ouma understood his feelings, and...

He takes a deep breath.

"Ouma-kun...w-was a person we, as a cast, will never, e-ever forget. W-We won't forget his sacrifice to keep our series alive, a-and we...w-wish the best to h-his l-loved ones, and…"

And to think his horrible parents couldn't even be bothered to pay. Didn't even bother to show up. Cruel, nasty people, driving their child to this, making their child feel like such a burden when it was  _ their  _ selfishness that brought him into this world. They couldn't even bother to send him off with any semblance of love– but even if they had shown up, Shuuichi would've torn out their throats.

He wipes his eyes, looking up– Harukawa and Yumeno look mortified. The cameraman makes a hustling hand motion.

"...Thank you, Ouma-kun." There. It's over. Nothing more. "T-Thank you...for everything." His voice gives out. Was he following his script? Or was it something he meant?

The camera footage cuts out. Harukawa and Yumeno are at his side, fussing without touching him.

"I toldja ya should've let one'a us do it."

"Saihara-kun...you really shouldn't push yourself so much. We know how important he was–"

" _ Do _ you, Harukawa-san?" He says venomously. He...he shouldn't yell at her, but… "The only person who's e-ever understood me in my entire l-life, and I...I couldn't even kill him like I promised to! I  _ promised,  _ and I-I couldn't even...in the end, I was just as unreliable as his shitty fucking p-parents…"

He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his temples.

"I just...wanted t-to die with him. That was all I wanted...but...I-I couldn't even do that much for him. I just w-wanted to die..."

The girls look at each other. Not a one of their cast was  _ truly  _ unprepared to die. Even Momota, who had come to win, wasn't ready for the worst.

Death was inevitable. Sometimes, a season would end with  _ no  _ survivors. And…

"Saihara-kun...I'm sorry." Harukawa puts her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

There isn't much more that can be said. Shuuichi looks at the urn, the cheap beads slung haphazardly around its neck.

He couldn't even give him a nice speech.

The camera equipment was taken from the room. The lingering smell of incense and ash came back to him as his nose cleared from his tears. Ouma was really gone, and he was left with a raw, empty feeling in his chest.

It was for nothing, then. All of it.

So he made up his mind. The same decision he made as a child, shuffling between funerals and watching death after death on his TV screen. The same thing he thought from the beginning, packed into his lunch boxes and the look his parents gave him, in the way everyone always left him behind.

He decided he'd die. Probably when it was most convenient for everyone else, when nobody would feel bothered by it and it wouldn't be a hassle for anyone.

He'd meant to from the beginning, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this came out okay, i'm still iffy on it but. yknow. i needed to get this out because ive been depressed since i spoiled myself. you can't convince me they weren't friends before the game...(by friends, i mean boyfriends.)  
> anyway this song also makes me emotional about them LMFAO haha uh. Sorry about this.


End file.
